Vegas Adventure

Discovering The Real Vegas

Day No. 2: ATVing In The Valley Of Fire, aka Shots Of Espresso

I was up early again for a departure to the Eldorado Canyon area, where, without much explanation as to how these bad boys worked, my group hopped on our off-road all-terrain vehicles. (No, you don’t need a driver’s license to do this.) My first-timer panic was assuaged when the instructor said if we couldn’t make it out of the gate to the main road, we’d be riding in the gear cart buggie. If you’ve never ATVed before, this adventure is a definite must. We cruised through incredibly isolated country, over sand dunes, loose rocks, washes and gullies — and past no signs of civilization besides a few abandoned trailers. There were moments when I was sure I’d see Walter White flop out of a trailer, shrieking in his underwear. Think of it as an early morning shot of espresso. And just when the caffeine rush subsides, you hit another patch of rocks you’re not quite sure how to navigate, and you wake right back up.

Day No. 3: Off-roading In The Valley Of Fire, aka Morning Constitutional

It was my first time off-roading, and I’d just come off another late night. This wasn’t your normal off-roading, but off-roading on pure Nevada backcountry: five square miles of sand, dirt, dunes and mud at the Logandale Trail System. Towering on either side of the vehicles were red, fractured cliffs of sandstone rock that the guides told us not to even touch because the stuff was so brittle it could crumble in our hands. But we were driving on it.

I felt more comfortable than I’d expected climbing this terrain at 30-degree angles in the body-on-frame 4Runner, selecting low range with the dash-mounted rotary switch to climb up the rock face. This makes you feel uber-accomplished and yet you haven’t actually done anything or gone anywhere. Sound similar to your morning ritual?

Day No. 4: Rock Climbing At Red Rock Canyon, aka Morning Run

After a 4 a.m. curtain call at TAO Nightclub, I arrived the next morning, at 6:45 a.m., at Red Rock Canyon for a rock-climbing expedition. Despite concentrating intently on where and how I would get to a greasy diner on my way to the canyon, I somehow forgot my shoes and socks. Thankfully, I am a girl, and the instructor had extra (you may not get so lucky, so pack ahead). This was by far the most physically intense experience I had had in Vegas — it was similar to going for a morning run in fall, when the crisp air does a number on your pathetic lungs. No matter how unafraid of heights you may be, and no matter how experienced, fear will creep in at 70 feet up. Still, definitely a better hangover cure than a Waffle House doubleheader.

Day No. 5: Jet Skiing, aka Smelling Salts (You Were Really Out Cold)

After a dance-off at Rain Nightclub at The Palms, I wanted to throw my phone-slash-alarm-clock against the wall when it started buzzing at 6 a.m. Are you surprised? Or are you getting used to my pace? Think you can match it? Go jet skiing at 7:00 in the morning on Lake Mead.

The water was choppy, it was cold in the shadow of the rocky shoreline and the instructions on the machinery read: “Normal swimwear does not adequately protect against forceful water entry into rectum or vagina.” Too bad I was wearing a bikini.

This jaunt was like being woken up by smelling salts: Quick, distasteful, like a slap upside the head. But, man, was it fun. I was riding a Ski-Doo at 60 mph, gassing it at full throttle, hitting wave after wave and catching some serious air, with a smile painted across my face like a dog with its head out a car window. Every time the water from the surf dried on my skin, I’d hit another swell, get a headwind of water and start freezing all over again. But I felt alive. Get on one of these powerful machines, and you’ll be ready to go again in no time. If the water is extra choppy and you catch more air than expected, even better.